What Happened To You?
by SkittleBarf
Summary: America is an over energetic personification who's always happy. Sometimes his fellow nations wonder if he even has any emotional variety at all. What will they see in him when they push him too far and he cracks? What happened to make him like this? (Feels warning!) NO IMPLIED SHIP.
1. What Happened?

Chapter 1: What Happened?

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 **Warning: This story is loaded with feels. Read on at your own risk. (It's really good though, so keep reading. It's worth it.)**

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It had been a normal meeting with the G8. Everyone was arguing and it was chaos. Somehow the conversation turned on America and everyone began to throw insults at him. He didn't care. They didn't faze him until someone went too far.

"You're stupid and fat just like your people. I bet you've never actually been in a bad situation before."

Before this comment America had been over viewing his notes and occasionally commenting on what someone said about him. But as soon as someone made that last comment he whipped his head up to look at everyone. The meeting went silent at the abrupt action.

America continued in a small but aggressive voice with,"Whoever said that needs to shut up right now."

The other countries stood in disbelief for a second before another person piped up and said,"But it's true. You have never given evidence to having a hard time with something. Let alone your peopl-"

"Shut. UP!" America slammed his hands on the table and stood up causing the chair to fall backwards,"None of you have the right to say that! None! Of you ar-" he stopped mid sentence realizing what he had just done. He stood there waiting for something to happen for someone to say something. He had made the mistake of cracking and showing his wounds. He was vulnerable.

The other countries stood staring at him. It had taken a few words and two seconds for America to retaliate and yell at them. They didn't know if he even knew that tears had started streaming down his face. They stood there in regret and pity for him. They had never seen this side of America before.

America couldn't stop the tears. Memories. God awful memories flashed through his head. His senses clogged up with the sound of screams, the sight of flames, the smell of burning flesh that haunted him every September.

America knew that he had to carry on with his revolt. "You may have gone through much more than me, but what doesn't kill one person might just kill someone else! None of you have the right to insult the struggles that my people and I have endured!" He glared at each of them while tears streaked down his face in a steady flow.

Then someone finally asked the question they had all been thinking. "What happened to you... to make you like this?"

And with those final words everything blacked out for the countries.

The contries oppened their eyes and squinted around the room. Where were they? Once their vision finally readjusted they realized that they weren't in the meeting room.

Germany counted everyone for the second time concluding that everyone was there except for America.

Everyone was confused at where they were for a second before they realized they were in what appeared to be an old theater. The seats were red and the projector was on a projector stand in the middle of the auditorium. Across from the seats was a large screen like the ones for movie theaters.

Canada went over to the projector and found a VHS tape on top of it that could fit into a slot in the projector. "Hey guys. I found something," he grabbed most everyone's attention which was good enough for him.

England looked at the tape and asked,"I suppose we're supposed to put it in the projector and watch a film then?"

Canada shrugged and put the tape into the projector then sat down in a seat like everyone else had. Everyone was pretty much in the third and fourth row of the six row auditorium. Each row had at least thirty seats.

They watched the screen for a moment before numbers came up. Four.. three.. two.. one. The screen was still dark but voices emitted.

A woman's voice, which sounded slightly like America's, said,"Is this thing on?"

A German voice said,"Yea I think it's supposed to do that."

They were followed by a Roman voice who asked,"Is it supposed to have that blinky light? *gasp* Is it going to explode?"

"No." The German voice answered,"I don't think so."

"Oh you don't _think_ so. That's very reassuring."

The Native American voice interrupted saying,"Guys. You're going to ruin the video thing. Anyway, we are here on America's behalf. Throughout his years as a country he has faced many hardships. Most of which he hasn't mentioned or doesn't speak of. This has caused him to continue to suffer through the ages as he covers it up."

The countries looked at each other in shock. The German voice continued by saying,"So, we are here to bestow upon you some of the struggles that he's faced." There was a tiny 'mwuahaha' from the Roman and a small laugh from the Native American.

The screen continued to remain blank until three simple white words appeared. "Salem Witch Trials"

"Oh dear," England muttered.

"What?" France asked.

England answered,"Even I didn't want to visit the colonies at that time."

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 **Yay! New story! I've been waiting a long time to write this. But seriously though, this story has some graphic details and** ** _many_** **feels. But it is going to be very good, so if you can handle that stuff keep reading!**


	2. Salem Witch Trials

Chapter 2: Salem Witch Trials

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The countries watched the screen go black again for a moment before the 'movie' started. The first thing that they saw was America, about the age of nine, running through a forest and dragging along a little girl that looked about the age of seven.

They were out of breath and the two men following them knew it. The little girl looked behind them then looked back at America, scared, and said,"They're getting closer!" There was fear and tears in her little green eyes.

America looked back at the scene behind them. "It's okay. Just keep your voice down and follow my lead and we'll be okay." The little girl nodded shaking off a few tears. There was just a moment where all that was seen was the two children fleeing until young America said,"I have an idea but don't make a sound." He suddenly jerked left causing him and the little girl to hide behind a tree in hopes to catch the men off guard. But to no avail.

The two men rounded on them making the little girl scream and America yelled 'run!' and tried to push the girl out of the men's reach, but they were faster and stronger. America promptly began to kick and punch at the man who had grabbed him. The man got easily annoyed and pulled out a gun, put it to America's temple, and said,"Stop it or I'll shoot ya!"

The man who had abducted the the little girl said,"Hey! You know what the priest been saying about shootin' the sinners." The man pocketed the gun and dragged America along with him.

Italy interrupted the film by saying,"What? Why are they doing that?" To which no one answered. They didn't know the answer.

The screen cut to a scene where the men were outside of a small square building next to a church. One man opened the door. There were people inside who scurried away as the door opened. The men threw the kids into the cell and closed the door.

America ran to the door as it closed and rammed himself against it and yelled,"Open the door!"

An old man in his sixties went over to America and said,"Don't waste your strength, son. It's not worth it."

The little girl gave a cry of delight and yelled,"Mama!" A young woman around the age of twenty-five ran to the girl and hugged her.

America eventually got tired of trying to demolish the door and he sat against the wall and put his head in his hands.

The screen cut to daylight where the door was unlocked again and opened. America ran to the door to try to get away. One of the men behind the door grabbed him and said,"This one's desperate to end his suffering!" To which the other men laughed.

Two other men walked into the room. All of the forty or so people ran to the back. One of the men had a wheel-barrel. The other man went to the people who hadn't run to the back and tossed their limp bodies into the wheel-barrel. "Only two today! That's much less than last week." The man with the wheel-barrel walked out of the prison like room.

The man who was still in the room looked at all of the people. At this the people only scuttled to try to escape his gaze somehow. The man grabbed a young woman with blue eyes and short brown hair around the age of seventeen. She shrieked and looked back at another young woman who had long blonde hair and green eyes and she was around the same age. The woman she had looked at yelled and weeped,"No! No, no please! Please don't take her! I love her! No!" She grabbed the girl's hand to which she clutched onto the other girl's hand like her life depended on it.

The man rolled his eyes and gestured for another man to come over to him. The man he had motioned to walked over to the blonde hair girl and snapped her wrist which made it fall limp at a funny angle. The girl cried out in pain and fell to the floor as tears fell from her face. But they weren't tears of physical pain. They were tears of a broken heart realizing that the woman she loved would never return to her.

The brown haired girl cried out with the same kind of pain. She began to weep and she reached out to her lost love for the last time.

Past America, as well as the other countries, watched in horror. Some of the countries had their hands over their mouths, others looked like they were going to be sick, but they were all on the verge of tears. They watched as America and the weeping girl were escorted onto a platform. The girl gasped and threw her hand over her mouth and cried even more at seeing a noose for execution. America's face went pale.

"Oh no,"Canada said covering his eyes. France, along most of the other countries, found an interest in their shoes, and the last few countries were so horrified that they couldn't pry their eyes from the screen.

They continued to watch as the weeping girl stepped on a stool and the noose was put over her head. America did the same at the noose next to hers. The screen panned down to their shoes as the stool was kicked out from under their feet. The screen cut to black immediately after.

There was a second of silence before England muttered,"Bloody hell." The other countries looked up at the blank screen, but it didn't stay blank for long before an image of past America came up.

It was late dusk and the first stars of the night were appearing. There was a second before America's head shot up and he gasped for breath but it didn't come. Then he remembered the stool. It was just behind him if he could just. He reached his foot behind him, but it was just barely an inch away. He closed his eyes and made a motion towards the small box like he wanted it to come to him. And it did. The stool scooted forward just enough so that America could pull it towards him with his foot. He stood on it then took his head out of the noose and he coughed a few times and regained his breathing habits.

After returning to his normal breathing he looked over to his right. The girl. He ran over, grabbed her stool, sat it next to her, grabbed a knife out of his pocket, and he cut the rope and caught her right before she fell. He untangled the rope from her neck and set her laying down.

A look of confusion crossed his face. "Hey. Hey wake up. Hey, you need to wa-" then he remembered. She was human. She wasn't a country. Tears came to his eyes. "No. No, please wake up." His little voice cracked as he continued,"You have to wake up. Remember that girl with the blonde hair? She loves you. You need to wake up for her, okay? Hey. Please. Please. Wake up? Please?" He continued to cry and plead to the dead girl's corpse until finally the image faded out.

The screen was black and empty for a moment before the Native American woman voice said,"Before the revolutionary war America's country held the Salem Witch Trials in Salem, Massachusetts between the months of February 1692 and May 1693. The trials held the executions of twenty people. Every execution except one by hanging. Fourteen of the people were women and five others, including two infants, died in prison. Twelve other women had been executed previously to this occurrence in the states of Connecticut and Massachusetts.

The voice faded out and the screen went black. Someone paused the recording so that they could have a mental break for a moment. There was silence for a second before Japan asked,"If he went through this horrific experience then how does he stay calm at any mention of witchcraft?" No one knew.

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 **Welp. I got hit right in the feels how about you guys? Like I said, this story is going to tug at your heart strings. Don't be afraid to send me a review, give me a suggestion, or tell me how badly the feels got you. (1-10).**


	3. The American Revolution

Chapter 3: The American Revolution

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I wrote this chapter at around one in the morning so it might be kinda crappy, but I'll update it with changes to make it better soon. (But first I need my beauty sleep.;)

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Eventually someone pressed play on the projector. There was a moment of silence before words appeared on the screen. 'The American Revolution'. Everyone looked over at England. He didn't say anything.

The first thing they saw was America about the age of six or seven outside a door. The door was slightly ajar and he was peering inside. Inside the door were France and England arguing.

Canada came up to America and asked,"Are they fighting again?" To which America nodded. "What is it about this time?"

"Probably something stupid,"America answered,"I tried to asks them, but England just shooed me away and told me it was big country stuff."

Canada rolled his eyes and said,"Honestly they should just make up and make out. It's annoying that they don't just kiss already."

America laughed and said,"Seriously."

Present day England and France looked at Canada. Canada looked back at them with a goofy grin. For a moment he was trying to hold back his laughter, but eventually it got the better of him and he burst out laughing.

Everyone's attention was turned back to the screen when past France yelled,"I didn't _want_ this to happen, okay?! My people choose this decision against my judgement and I can't do _anything_ to change their opinion!"

There was a pause where present day France muttered,"Oh, I remember this. But what does this have to do with the revolution?"

A few seconds passed where Canada and America peeked through the crack in the doorway.

"You do not know _how much_ this breaks my heart," past France continued,"but I need you to take care of him. You'll do that for me right?"

Past England looked at him for a second before saying,"Alright. But it's your fault if he ends up traumati-" he was cut off by past France hugging him and thanking him. "Oh alright don't be all emotional."

"Aww they're in love!" past America said, to which past Canada laughed. But the laughter stopped when past France walked out of the room and saw Canada and America.

"Little spies. You should be in bed," he teased with a broken smile. He wished that they hadn't been awake. It would have been easier for all of them.

America and Canada giggled, but it didn't last long. France walked to the front door and Canada gave him a confused look. "Hey, where are you going?" When France had reached the door and he didn't get an answer he continued to trot after France and ask,"Why are you leaving? Hey. Hey come back!"

France opened the door, turned his head toward Canada and said,"Au revoir, Canada. J'espère te revoir un jour. (Goodbye, Canada. I hope to see you again one day.)"

At this a few tears ran down past Canada's face. America noticed this and turned hostile. France was just closing the door when he heard America yell,"Come back here you made him cry! Hey!" The door closed on the child's voice. America's face turned angry and he walked over to Canada, took his hand, and led him to the room France and England had just been in.

England looked a little surprised at seeing the two children walk into the room. He started saying, "Um. Aren't you supposed to be in b-"

He was interrupted by America saying,"What's happening? This makes no sense and you better tell me the truth or else." And with that he crossed his arms and looked at England.

"Or else what?" England asked jokingly.

America paused for a second before saying,"I-I don't know but something not too great." He felt very proud of how well he played of his situation.

Past England rolled his eyes and smiled. But the smile faded as soon as he realized what he needed to tell them. "Well you see. France is a little busy at the moment, so I'll be taking care of you for now."

"Is he coming back?" Canada asked.

England was caught off guard for a second before he answered saying,"Of coarse he is! We're countries so we live forever. So it's more than likely that you'll see him again." Canada looked a little reassured, but it wasn't exactly what he had wanted to hear.

He responded with a simple 'okay' before he left the room and went back to bed.

The screen faded out then it came back up. The image was America and Canada in a bedroom. They were each about twelve or so. Canada was sitting on the bed and America was pacing the room. "So." America started,"The plan is to get people to stop leaving. We ca-"

Canada cut him off saying,"America our friends that are human don't leave. They aren't like us they di-"

America cut him off saying,"No, Canada. Like England said they just went on a little vacation. Davie just went on a vacation okay?" He sounded more like he was trying to convince himself than convince Canada.

"America that was nearly five years ago. Davie is dead."

"No he's not! He was my friend, friends don't just leave like that so he's not dead. No one's dead. France left years ago and he's not dead, yeah?"

"Yeah but that's different he's a countr-"

"And England leaves sometimes to go back to his country, but he's not dead right?"

"Yeah, bu-"

"So that would mean that Davie, along with all of our other friends that left, aren't dead. They just left somewhere! And I think that they're all going to the same place. So we have to find out where everyone's going and get them back!" America concluded.

It was heartbreaking to watch this. He was so full of grief from the deaths of human friends that he needed to make something up to feel okay.

The screen cut to an image of fourteen year old America running into Canada's room. "Hey Canada I-!" He was cutoff at seeing that his room was empty. He hung his head and murmured,"Right. He left." America walked back to his room.

The screen cut to an image of fifteen year old America running through a field at night. He flopped onto the ground and looked up at all of the stars. There was a pause before America asked,"Why can't we just be like stars? Always close to each other but far enough to have space. And some stars are closer to other stars." There was another pause before America proclaimed,"One day I'm gonna be up there with the stars. I wish I was a star."

The screen faded black before the next image came up. Fifteen year old America was laying on his bed and thinking when he suddenly sat up at the knock of a door. He ran to the front door and opened it. There stood England. "Hello, America!" He said with a smile,"I finally got some time to come visit you."

"Cool! Do you have work to do?" America asked dreading the answer.

"Sadly yes. But I'll get it done quickly," was England's response.

America responded with,"'Kay." He dropped his smile when England closed the door to his room. America trudged back to his room and walked over to his desk. "Well, it's now or never. Maybe if I become my own country then I can visit anyone I want any time," he said hopefully.

Present day England put his hand over his mouth. He didn't know that that was all he had wanted.

America held his breath and walked into England's office. "Oh hello America. I'll be with you in a moment I just have to finish th-"

He was cutoff by America placing a piece of paper on his desk. England read over it quickly. It was a declaration of freedom. Almost like a warning that England should let America go. England set the paper aside and said,"That's very creative but right now-"

"We can either do this the easy way or the hard way,"America said. England looked up at him in disbelief then shook his head and looked back down at his work. America shrugged and said,"Fine. You always were prone to fighting."

England stood up, realizing he was serious, and said,"You aren't doing this."

America turned to him and shouted,"Everyone I have ever cared about has left me! First it was Native America, then it was France, then it was Canada, then friends started dying around me, then you started leaving too! And yeah you would come back now and again, but it wasn't for long! And sometimes I ask myself if it's something wrong with me that drives people away! Now it's _my turn_ to leave!" At this America turned and left, slamming the door in the process. He left England there seething in rage.

The screen cut to a scene where America and a group other people in crazy getups raided a British ship. They grabbed the crates of tea and hurled them into the Boston Harbor. They cheered as each crate fell into the black water below.

America and the other men hurried off the boat before they could be caught by officers. One man clapped America on the back and said,"Wow, what a tea party!" To which America and a few other people in the vicinity laughed at.

The screen again cut to an image of shock. America was in his uniform and he was wielding a musket. He had an army behind him and there was an army behind England who was in front of him across the battlefield. England aimed his gun and said,"End this while you still can, America. You don't want to make me do something I'll regret."

America simply answered with,"You lead me down this dark path, but of course I'm the one you blame for the aftermath." At this shots filled the air and the first battle began.

It was a chaotic bloodbath. People yelling all around and there was blood. So much blood. The battle only ended when the American troops retreated. Many of them were either dead or injured along with America. He'd been shot in the arm.

Back at the camp it was dark outside and America was in a tent with other people. There were voices of important people talking, strategizing. America finished writing something and went to one of the men. America prodded him and handed him the letter. The man smiled at him and said,"I don't think I could've written it better myself."

America beamed at him with determination,"Thanks, Alexander."

Alexander pointed to someone else and said,"Make sure to give it to the general."

America nodded and went over to someone else. The man took the letter and nodded.

After this occurence America walked out of the tent. It was freezing. He could even see his breath. The ground was frosted over and it had started to snow as a bitter wind swept across the camp. The camp was practically empty, but as America reached a tent in the middle of the camp he heard screams of pain and agony. He walked into the tent and there were at least twenty injured men on cots. The frostbite wasn't helping anything.

America went over to an old nurse and asked if he could do anything to help. The nurse gave him a warm smile and said,"I would love that, but it's much too late at night for a young man like you to be awake. As a nurse I have to insist that you get some sleep." America smiled and thanked her and left.

The screen cut again to a scene at night where many soldiers were inboats crossing the Hudson River. It was cold enough to make small ice rafts in the water. Once they came ashore they marched into the British camp and the battle began. America checked every tent until he found England. He was dead asleep. America put his gun right next to England's ear and smiled as he pulled the trigger. A deafening shot ran through England's ear and he screamed. America ran out of the tent laughing.

Present day England commented,"I couldn't hear well out of that ear for two months after that."

Then the screen went black again then it started again. It was the battle in Fort Sumpter, South Carolina. There were rockets and bombs being blown into the sky. America had been pinned to the ground by England was standing over America. He had his boot pressed on America's neck and he was aiming his gun at America's forehead. America's gun had been kicked away. England gave a little laugh and said,"It's over for you now. We'll take this fort and end this bloody war."

America sneered and croaked out,"There's just one problem." He then lifted his leg and kicked England in the crotch. England fell over cursing. America grabbed England's gun and aimed it at England and said,"I think you've picked the wrong fight." Then he fired the gun and missed England by a few centimeters.

The countries watching looked over at England. "I think this is where the war started to go downhill for you,"Russia said.

They continued to watch as the screen flicked to a scene where America was pointing his gun at England who was out of breath and was hunched over with his musket. America was slightly out of breath too. "It's over England."

England looked up at him with questions in his eyes,"Why did you have to do this?"

America simply answered,"I'm not usually the type to hold a grudge, but you've affected me. And now, I'm nothing but rage."

At these words England shot up and ran at America. America didn't expect this and stood in shock. England used his gun like a bat to try to hit America over the head a few times, but America used his gun to block the blows. America kicked England a few times and hit him in the shoulder twice with his musket.

England sat on his knees with his gun held loosely in one hand while he held his shoulder with the other. America walked over and grabbed England's hair to make him face America. "Just let me **go**!" America yelled then stabbed England in the shoulder with the tip of his bayonet. England cried out in agony and America shot the gun which made England fall backward on the ground.

England stayed on the ground and cried. He had lost. Him, a mighty superpower, had lost to a simple colony. How? How could he have gone so low? He sat and pitied himself until the screen faded out.

"Geez you were a crybaby," France said looking over at England.

"Oh shut up!" Was his answer.

The screen came back up to America and Canada walking down a hallway. "I'm so excited but also super nervous," America said.

"Well, my first world meeting was fine. But there are some countries to look out for like England and Spain and Russia. They can be pretty scary if they try. There are other weirdo countries too, but I'm not one to gossip." Canada said.

America replied,"Oh I'm not worried about people trying to overtake me. If they aren't trying to hurt me then why be afraid? In all reality I would love to meet one of those countries (besides England cause I sorta just ended a war with him)! I think it would be cool to meet a really powerful empire or something."

Canada laughted and put his hand on the door handle, but before he walked inside he turned to America and said with a smile,"Oh, and when you become all famous and stuff don't forget about me."

"Why would I do that? Plus I'm not gonna be famous,"America said before Canada opened the door.

The countries that were watching laughted at America's last comment.

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 **I knew that I needed to add this chapter, but I couldn't think of anything too feels without it being cliché. So, I sorta spared you guys with this chapter, but yea. Also, thank you guys** ** _so_** ** _much_** **for all of your support for this fanfic! I love getting reviews and questions from you guys, so don't be afraid to talk to me. I might be writing about heart wrenching situations, but I don't bite! (I promise) See you bros in the next chapter!**


	4. The War Of 1812

Chapter 4: The War Of 1812

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The first thing the nations saw was a dark bedroom, and someone was under the covers of the bed. The nations jumped when the figure shot up and screamed. They grabbed their chest and reached out for the bedside table, but they missed and fell off the bed. They coughed a bit and put their mouth to their lips and looked at their fingers and whispered in a small, scared voice,"What the hell?" Gritting their teeth through the screams, the person scrambled to the bathroom. The person turned on the oil lamp and to everyone's surprise a younger version of Canada started coughing up a small amount of blood into the sink. He looked at himself in the mirror for a moment before he grabbed his chest again and fell to the floor in screams. "Make it stop! Make it stop!" He screamed over and over a few times, tears streaming down his face.

The scream faded to black. France paused the projector and whipped his head over to face Canada. "What the hell was that about?" He asked with worry.

Canada responded with,"Yeah, I remember that hurt like hell. I swear the person who did that got an ass whopping after that." He played the projector with a smile. He knew what was to come.

The screen faded back and America was in a uniform and at a table with other people. Important people from his country.

One of the men said,"England is trying to limit our trade supply with other countries over seas. But, w-"

America gave him a funny look and said,"Wait, but he can't do that I'm not a colo-"

He was cutoff as the man continued saying,"That would limit our resources to expand the country. Now our first action is to take Lake Erie. Then-"

America cut him off saying,"No, that's part of Canada's country. We can't do that. We would go to war!"

The man looked at him and said,"Then that is what we'll do. As I was saying..." The man continued his statement, not bothering to acknowledge the fact that it would bring pain to the personification of Canada.

The screen cut to an image of Canada taking a letter from someone at his front door. He bid them goodbye and closed the door. He opened the letter and read it. He stopped walking when he read a name. He grinned and a glint of something unregistered came up in his eyes.

"America, eh?" He said,"Well. That bastard has another thing coming for him."

Everyone in the theater looked over at Canada. He was simply smiling at watching this play out. Only he, England, and America knew what Canada would do next.

The screen cut to Canada, England, and some more people in a tent. Everyone in the tent was talking about the upcoming battle in the war except for Canada. He had an almost bored expression on his face.

Past Canada looked over at England and said,"Hey I'm going to go do something." England gestured that it was okay for him to leave. But the next question Canada asked was very unexpected. "Oh, and is it alright if I borrow some of your troops?"

England gave him a confused look and said,"Um. What for?"

Past Canada gave him a glare which made him go rigid. The death glare turned into a dark smile as he said,"Something. Hmm, how to put it? Something? Fun." At this he looked at England again with his malicious smile. He took England's silence as a yes.

Present day England turned to Canada and said,"Seriously, that look you gave me was scary as hell."

Canada smirked and said,"Thanks."

The screen went black for a second then the next scene appeared. America was running out of a large, white building. As soon as he exited the building from the back he ran to the front, but made it halfway when he heard the word "Fire!" and the sound of canons.

He collapsed to the ground and screamed blood curdling screams. It was a horrific sight to see a younger American in fetal position screaming his lungs out and tears streaking down his pale cheeks. He grabbed at his chest like it was on fire and he wouldn't stop screaming. He watched in terror as his capitol burned to the ground before him.

Canada walked over and said in an almost cheery voice,"Oh there you are! I was afraid you would miss the show." He was in uniform and was wielding a musket.

"C-Canada?" America asked through the searing pain.

"Oh I'm so glad you remembered my name. That would be quite an awkward situation if you didn't," was Canada's reply.

America asked,"What? W-why? Why would you do this?"

"Why?" Canada replied,"Well it's simply really. Revenge." America gave him a fearful look. "Revenge on you, revenge on France, revenge on England, revenge on **anyone** **who has ever put me down as some weakling who can't do shit for themselves or just some plot of barren land!"** He cleared his voice before saying,"Sorry for raising my voice,"and continuing. " I'm not one to fight really, but if there's something I see worth fighting you'd bet your ass that I'll fight," With these words he started to approach America. "You see it's pretty funny. I told England that I was just going to go out and do who knows what, but once variables start to create a formula you start to get an answer." He knelt down in front of America and grabbed his hair and jerked his head up, so he could look him in the eye. "Hear this now, _brother._ I'm not some pawn to be played in some little game. I'm much stronger than I show and I could do a lot of damage if I wanted to."

With this last remark he let go of America and started to walk away. America made the mistake of trying to call out to Canada again. Canada simply rolled his eyes, held his gun upside down, and used it like a baseball bat to hit America over the head. America fell limp to the ground, unconscious. "That should shut you up for once, shouldn't it?"

As he walked back to his battalion he saw England there over by his troops. They nodded to each other and retreated back to camp.

The screen faded to black and all of the nations looked over at Canada. He looked at them with a fake, confused look and asked,"What?"

Their attention was called back to the screen when the Native American voice said,"Although America did win the war of 1812 he did take a big hit. In attempt to extend the country, war was declared against Canada and England. The capital was burned to the ground in 1814 with some help from the British."

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 **Yea, so this may seem out of character for Canada, but history (and headcanons) tell me this happened. On another note, thank you guys** ** _so much_** **for all of your support with this story! I love getting suggestions, reviews, questions, etc. from you guys. It really helps the story flow. I hope I didn't hit you too hard in the feels with this chapter because the next one's gonna be even worse. (Seriously, don't listen to 'Safe And Sound' by Taylor Swift while reading this unless you want a feels overdose. I made the mistake of doing that while rereading the first chapters.)**


	5. The Civil War

Chapter 5: The Civil War

* * *

The screen faded back to life as the next scene came up. America was sleeping in a bedroom. He woke up, yawned and looked out the window. "Morning already? Geez I thought I'd get more sleep, what with the tension going on in the government," he said rubbing his eyes and reaching to the desk next to his bed for his glasses. He patted the desk a few times then looked over at it. His eyes widened and an expression of terror and worry crossed his face.

He bolted out of bed and started looking around his bed saying,"Oh no. Where are my glasses? Where are they? Oh crap."

After a few minutes of searching he sat down at the desk, leaned back in the chair, put his hands over his face, and said,"This is _not_ good."

Just as he said that a voice from the door, with a southern accent, said,"lookin for these?"

America yelped and fell backward in the chair. He sat up and whined and rubbed his head. The other person laughed and said,"Aww, shoot. I think I felt that!"

America looked up at the personification at the door. They were about the height of Japan. They had dark reddish brown hair that was in England's hair style, light brown eyes, slightly tan skin, and freckles. They were also wearing a gray uniform and America's glasses.

America stood up, put his hand out to them, and said,"Hey, I don't know who you are, but I need those glasses. They're very important."

"Why?" The boy asked. "Is it because they represent the state of Texas?"

America froze for a moment. He brought his hand to his side and asked,"How do you know that?"

The young man answered,"What? Haven't ya heard? Texas seceded from the United States of America this mornin. In consequence that resulted in me. I, my friend, am the newest nation: The Confederacy of The United States of America. In other terms known as the Confederate States." He gave America a smug look.

America looked at him for a moment before saying,"Wait. That would mean,"his expression cracked into an unexpected smile,"You're my little brother!"

"Wait, what?"

America got excited and started saying,"Oh my gosh, that's so cool! You don't look much like me. Oh, wait! You need to meet Canada, too! I feel like you guys would get along an-"

Confederacy slapped him and yelled,"Shut up!"

"Woah. England attitude,"America commented.

"You're so stupid! Don't you care that one of your _states_ has left your country? Which means that more will be sure to follow," Confederacy concluded.

America had his hand on the cheek that the boy had slapped him. He looked back at him. Daring him to get to the point.

Confederacy continued saying,"Which means that we'll go to war. I don't think brothers go to war against each other."

America gave a small laugh, recalling his past wars with brothers, and said,"If you do this there are going to be families that are split apart. Brothers will go to war."

The Confederate States smirked at him and said,"What? You scared?"

America looked him dead in the eye and said,"No. I don't want to scare you."

The Confederacy's face washed over with slight fear and worry, but he covered it up with a smirk and left.

America shook his head and mumbled,"It's too early in the morning for this."

The screen cut to a battle scene where America was in a blue uniform fighting against soldiers in gray uniforms. People were shouting and it was chaos. Shots rang out all around. Then there was a pause in time when America stopped. The battle raged on around him, but he simply stared at the young nation in front of him. America had his gun in hand and so did the Confederacy.

"You won't win this war, America!" He yelled over the craziness around them. He aimed his gun at him. He was kneeling on the ground and injured. America couldn't lift his musket to aim. "This attack on Fort Sumter is the start of this war that you will parish in! Surrender now and accept slavery into the western states or suffer the consequences!" He wore the expression of a boy who was hiding something. Hiding regret.

There was a moment of tension between them before the screen cut to America stumbling into his bedroom. His arm had a few bandages and he was winded and shaken up.

He started to walk to his bed before he stopped in front of the mirror. He looked at the mirror with an astonished expression.

"Woah. You look beaten up. What happened to you?" He asked his reflection.

The countries looked at the screen confused. He was talking to himself? Why?

America's face turned angry as he looked at himself in the mirror. "No, slavery isn't right, so stop saying it is." There was a pause before he continued saying,"Well, slavery is right because then you don't have to use gross factories and you can count on your things being handmade and not by some robot."

He paused and looked at himself again before saying,"But slavery is abuse! We're better than this. C'mon, America make the right decision!"

By this time the countries were thoroughly confused. They watched with surprise as his expression changed into one of realization.

"I'm. Talking to myself in a mirror,"he said. There was a pause before he whispered in a scared voice,"Am I going insane?"

The screen cut to America fighting another battle. People were screaming and the ground was stained red with the blood of thousands of soldiers and innocents. The troops eventually retreated and the screen cut to an image of America in a room with many other important people.

America leaned over to a man next to him and whispered,"What's the count now?"

The man's expression dropped even more than it had been. He leaned toward America and whispered,"Thousands. It's more than all of our past wars combined! If the next battle goes the way the previous ones have over these few years of war we'll have a death count of over six thousand." His voice wavered with his last words. "Not to mention the innocence ones that died in this retched war."

America's face was stone still, plastered with a look of surprise and pain. The Civil War had obstructed a jagged scar across his country. His government and his people were split. Not forgetting the whole new personification deal that was going on. America knew what he had to do to end this, but it was the last thing he wanted to do.

The nations watched in shock as the screen cut to a battle. It was the end of the final battle of the war. But what surprised them the most was what was happening. Confederacy was knelt on the ground holding his shoulder. America was pointing his gun at his chest, tears running down both of their faces.

"I don't want to do this,"America said in tears,"Surrender now, Confederacy! Please. Don't make me do this to you."

America and the rest of the G8 watched in horror as the young country stumbled and stood up. He was slouched over and obviously wounded. But what he did next mortified the countries.

Confederacy grabbed the the blade of America's musket and pulled it against his chest causing a small splurt of blood to fly out of his chest.

"Do it,"He dares America. America gave him a look of confusion and regret. Confederacy continued,"You can't can you! You can't even save your own country!"He had a malicious, power hungry look in his eyes,"That's why _I'm_ better than you! That's why _I_ will win this war! You're nothing but a lowly scum on this Earth. A landmass just _waiting_ to be conquered!" By this time America's hands were shaking and his head was heavy. "You're _stupid_! And _worthless_! And _no one_ _**cares**_ about y-"

His accusations of hate and malice were cut off by America pulling the trigger twice. The Confederacy's expression was one of pure surprise. But it smoothed out into a blank, closed look when he tried taking a step back but instead fell to the ground. America's glasses falling off in the process.

The nations watched in horror as blood poured out from Confederacy's wounds. But what shattered them was America's reaction.

America's hands shook and his gun fell to the ground along with a steady flow of tears. His legs became weak as he accosted Confederacy's limp body and cradled it. He sobbed into the once alive boy's shoulder. Then America began to speak.

"I'm sorry.,"He uttered through the weeps. "I'm so sorry I didn't want this to happen. I never wanted to do this!" By this time The Confederate's body had dissolved and America was left there holding himself and weeping. "I'm sorry to you Confederacy for taking you from this world. There were so many things you would've loved." His voice cracked with every sentence gone by. "I'm sorry Canada for taking away a brother that you never even knew the name of. I'm so sorry. To all of the families that were torn apart because of this. To all of the innocent deaths. To the hundred thousands of people that died. I'm sorry. Oh. Why? Oh god I'm sorry _so so_ _ **sorry**_..."

He trailed off in his sorrows. The screen faded out. Before the nations could respond the German voice said,"In the American Civil War about six hundred, twenty thousand people were killed. The government was split between two ideas of government and the idea of slavery. America experienced this through the death of a brother and the effects of schizophrenia." The small fact check ended and the nations were left in bewilderment.

"How the _bloody_ _hell_ does he live with this emotional trauma!" England inquired aloud.

"More importantly,"Germany said,"Why has he never approached us with this matter?"

Canada muttered,"Why did he never tell me about our brother?"

* * *

 **Ohmygosh was this chapter good! How much did the feels hit ya this time (1-10)? By the way, thank you guys** ** _so_** ** _much_** **for being so patient with me while I worked on this chapter! This past week has been a whirlwind! First, I caught a bad case of writer's block, then I went to go see my grandpa in the hospital (he had some surgery on his spine, but he's all good. He told me to tell you guys that he says hi), then** ** _school_** **started back up after Winter break. Eugh, school. Speaking of which that means I might not be able to post chapters as much as I want to, but I'll definitely do my best to get chapters out for you guys. Thanks for all of your support, I'll see you in the next chapter!**


	6. The Great Depression

Chapter 6: The Great Depression

* * *

 _ **IMPORTANT MESSAGE!:**_ **Okay, so this chapter is gonna have a suicide mention and a self harm mention. (Some of the thoughts, feelings, words said, or actions are based on mine and others past struggles with depression and self harm and suicide.) It may also be a bit disturbing at a few parts.** **ALSO! _I would like to clarify that I'm_** _ **not**_ ** _implying a certain ship between America and another country in this fic._ Lastly, I might skip over World War 1 and 2 cause the whole anime is sorta based around that time period, but if you guys want me to write a chapter on that then I'll be sure to get on that.**

 **ANYWAY! BACK TO THE FEELS!**

* * *

The countries watched as America walked down a street happily. It was odd to them. Why would he be doing this when white letters had popped up seconds ago saying,"The Great Depression"?

Their question was soon answered when America stopped in his tracks and stared at the ground ahead of him. Something was wrong. His expression changed from a small smile to him being almost in tears. Then something new happened.

'Woah.' America's thoughts rang out. 'Okay, uh... Why do I suddenly fell so-empty?'

He stood there for a moment before shaking his head and continuing to walk home. But his expression still remained.

Once in his house he turned on the television and sat down. He watched the news as a reporter spoke saying,"The stock market has crashed and debt is rising..."

There was more to say, but America didn't want to listen. He snatched the remote and turned the TV off. As if it was a delayed reaction he slowly brought the remote down and said,"So that's why I suddenly feel like shit. Nice." There was a pause before he yelled out a groan and slipped downward in his seat, melting himself into the couch. "I don't like this. This does not feel good."

The screen cut to America eating a sandwich he stopped eating it suddenly before taking another bite and looked at the sandwich. Unexpectedly he slammed the sandwich on the paper plate and yelled,"Why is everything so unappealing lately? Everything is shit! I'm shit, my economy's shit, and even food tastes like shit for no reason!" He put his head in his hands and sighed. "I can't just stop eating because that would make my situation worse, but I don't wanna keep eating when anything I eat tastes like gross. Ugh what am I supposed to do I'm just a stupid country who's immature and weird." He paused a second before walking away from the kitchen and saying,"I should just starve. I deserve it anyway."

The nations were left in shock. "Why would he be acting like this? He hasn't done anything wrong in this time,"Germany asked aloud.

It was quite until Italy answered,"Sometimes. In depression. You just feel _horrible._ For no reason."

"Depression is different for everyone,"Russia said. "It might be worse for one person compared to another person."

After this was said the personifications' attention was turned back to the screen. They watched as America, who had bags under his eyes and messed up hair, was watching a reporter on the television tell about the hardships people were facing all around his country. America looked like he had been crying. His face was distorted from his usual "Hollywood Smile".

The screen cut again to an image of America walking by his kitchen. He sat at the table, bored. There was nothing fun to him anymore. Then, the sun reflected off of something. It shined in America's eyes. He squinted his eyes and went over to the counter to see what it was. It was a knife. It was relatively clean and it was sharp. It was small and could be handled easily. It would be a perfect knife to cut something. Something soft. Something vulnerable or innocent of harm.

It clicked for America. It connected with the countries too. A few of them shook their heads while others simply murmured small pleads of protest.

America looked at the knife then his right wrist. 'Should I? Would that make things better?' He thought. He stared at the knife before shaking his head, putting the knife down and thinking,'No. It would only bring more pain to my country and to me. Literally.'

The camera cut to America walking by a house. On the porch was a mother and four children. The children were obviously not educated and each of them were in rags. The children held a sign that read 'Help! Children up for buy. I'm starving and need money.' America stared at the sign a moment before realizing that the children couldn't even read what the words said.

The nations watching gasped. A few wanted to hurl. A mother would sell her own children. Simply for a little money. These times were obviously tragic.

America's eyes widened and he ran. He ran from the sign. From the helpless and desperate mother. From the dying children in tatters that didn't even know their own fate. He ran from his troubles. But they would only return in the end.

Once back in his own house he panted and walked over to the kitchen. He went to get a glass of water before noticing the knife again. He stopped and looked at it. It beckoned him. Taunted him. He had to use most of his self willed strength to pull away from the kitchen and leave the room. The smooth, cool blade of the knife was so tempting to put against his skin. To feel his flesh being cut open by his own action. How thrilling it would be!

The screen went black. Giving them a split second of peace before the chaos that followed.

The screen livened up to America walking into his house, closing the door slowly. He stopped and put his elbows on the counter and cried into his hands.

"I couldn't do it. I couldn't do it. Why? Why couldn't I do it? Why can't I just be the hero for once? Why can't I do something good for once?" He weeped until he adjusted his position and his arm nudged something. The knife. He looked at it for a moment before grabbing it and walking to the bathroom.

The countris realized what was about to happen. But their pleads couldn't stop what was about to happen. They watched as America walked into his hallway bathroom, slammed the door shut and put the knife to his skin. They wouldn't understand. They would never understand how badly America needed this. To feel this. To feel something! He needed this so that he could at least try to block out the emotional pain. And what better way than with more pain? The soothing relief of the blade nicking his skin and seeing the almost entrancing trickle of red flow down his forearm sent spiking shivers down his spine. It hurt. It hurt like hell. But he wanted this. He _needed_ this! It was like a drug with the blade being the drug dealer, the wound and the blood the drug which came with the wonderful, intended and craved numbing.

The screen went black. All they heard was skin being ripped apart over and over a few times in the same spot again and again. Then they heard the drops of liquid. Of blood and tears. Then the clatter of a knife falling into a sink.

The blade shook from his hand, an effect of the shock and adrenaline. It was like euphoria. But, of course, he cried. He cried because of the pain, but felt a slight happiness of relief. A welcoming surge he hadn't experienced in so long.

They watched in trauma as the image of America came up. Sobbing on the ground in a small bathroom by himself. Blood trickled to the floor in one thick line and many smaller streams all from one spill point. A few of the countries grabbed their wrists at the places where they had cut before during hard times. The faded scares of desperation. In hope that they could feel _something_. Something other than the pain they had felt for so long.

They couldn't imagine that it would get worse.

* * *

The nations breathed shaky breaths as the screen slowly faded black. "I-think we need a break,"France said pausing the recording. The other nations agreed.

There was quite as they went through their different reactions. Canada cried and hugged France.

France hugged him back and cried silently.

England leaned on France and let his head rest on his shoulder. A few tears slipped from his eyes.

Italy cried also and latched onto Germany.

Germany gave occasional words of comfort while pondering 'why'? Why would America not tell his fellow nations, or at least his friends, about this? Germany had confronted Prussia and his Allies when he had felt depressed. And why-no-how was America able to hold all of that emotional strain? Let alone _smile_ through the pain.

Japan had moved to sit next to Italy so that he could comfort him as well. A few tears had slipped from his eyes when he had seen his friend on the bathroom floor in tears.

Russia simply couldn't tear his eyes away from the screen. He looked at it as if searching for an answer as to how America could just live life like everything was fine. Even at that time in America's life, at world meetings he was a little more down than normal, he had smiled. At least he had when people were looking. Russia couldn't fathom the type of torture America had put himself through to carve that fake mask of a smile on his face. He had put up a façade of a hero as a last resort to stop people from seeing through him.

No one could imagine the immense pain and pressure America had pressed onto himself just to get through the day.

* * *

Eventually the recording was played again. The countries watched as America sat on his couch listening to the horrible news. Then he started talking, speaking the most discomposing things.

"I wonder. What would it be like to be in a room all by yourself. But the oxygen in that room is slowly being depleted. And slowly, you start to feel your body shut down from the loss of the simplest thing you need for survival. And when you breath for air you're greeted with a mistake. Something you don't want. Something you don't, need." He paused a moment before saying,"That would be fun." He nodded his head and claimed,"Yes, I think that'd be good."

It was disturbing to hear these words come from America's mouth.

America continued with his rant of self-destruction. He began to list off ways that someone could purposely die in a sing-song voice. It was horrendous until he got to the point,"An overdose, a blade, a rope. I have some rope. Rope is fun." He looked up at the television, then he looked around the room.

"No one's stopping me."

The nations sat in terror. Was America going to commit _suicide_?

The next frame that came up horrified them. America was in what looked to be a bedroom. He was standing on a chair and facing the noose that had been tied to the ceiling fan. Some of the nations closed their eyes.

"Um. Okay! Now all I have to do is- the rest!" America said uncertainly. "Maybe. I can finally be. Free."

He stuck his head through the noose, his hands shook and he squeezed his eyes shut. The personifications watching could not believe what was happening.

America breathed out for the last time standing in the death trap. The second before he pushed off of the chair his eyes shot open. He pushed his head away from the noose and tripped off the chair. He scampered behind the chair and crouched behind it, looking at the noose. The nations sighed out a breath they didn't know they had been holding. America, on the other hand, was not satisfied with his actions.

"God **_dammit_**!" He yelled standing up and kicking the chair. The countries jumped at the abrupt action. "Why can't I do something good for _once_! Everyone would be much happier if I was gone! Why can't I just die?" He sat on the flipped over chair and cried horrible sobs. "I'm a wimp."

The countries' hearts dropped. They felt like they had just gone on a loop in a roller coaster. Lightheaded and their stomachs had butterflies.

The screen again cut to another frame, but instead of just past America, Canada was there too. The countries looked over at Canada in confusion when he uttered out a small,"Oh, boy."

"Glad I came to visit," Past Canada said cheerfully. "Maybe we can cheer you up, eh?" He shook the board games he was holding as if to produce proof.

America rolled his eyes and said,"Sure."

Canada paused for a moment before asking,"Alfred, what's wrong?" even though he knew the answer.

"Nothing,"America responded. "Everything's fine."

"Everything is not okay and you know it!" Canada said like a mother scolding a child. "Why? Why do you not talk to people?"

America gave him a confused look.

"People want to be here for you through this kind of thing. You can talk to me, Arthur, Francis, or anyone you feel comfortable with talking t-"

"No, Mattie!" America snapped.

"Why?" Canada retorted.

"I- have to be the hero for everyone, right? Heroes don't cry," America said, his last word cracking.

There was a pause before Canada smiled weakly and said,"Mine do."

America shook his head and said,"Plus the more people know then the more people would hate me and judge me and then I might actually try to kill myself." His words grew weak as tears started to run down his face halfway through his sentence.

Canada continued saying,"Alfred, you may be an independent person and country, but that doesn't mean that you have to do everything on your own. It's okay to have at least a little help from others. Especially if you need it."

America pursed his lips, closed his eyes, put on an expression of broken defiance, and shook his head slowly.

Canada finally became exasperated and said,"You make it _so,_ _difficult_ , for people. I'm afraid! Afraid to be near you, to touch you, to comfort you! You make things out to be so simple, but in all reality it's chaos! You might be a great but broken person, but you need to learn to let people into your life! You need to accept the opportunities that people give you... Chances to be happy." Canada paused and looked at America who was silently crying.

Past Canada sighed and sat down next to America and put his arms around his brother. "I wish I could make you happy. I really wish I could. But I can't. I can't make you do anything. Alfred, you have to choose to change. Not for the better and not for anyone else, but for yourself."

The screen faded out. Some of the countries looked over at Canada. He was tense and his heart was racing. His heartbeat pounded in his ears and head. He wondered if the rest of them could hear it too.

America sat at a table at a coffee shop. His eyes were red and puffy and glazed over like freshly made glass as he looked down at his cup. He glanced up as Russia pulled up a chair and sat in front of him. America looked back at his coffee, and the awkward moment between them seemed to last a lifetime until Russia spoke up.

He cleared his throat and started,"So, um." He shook his head slightly and gave a small laugh before continuing, saying,"I promised myself I wouldn't say anything stupid like "are you okay?" or "how are you?" because-how the fuck do you think, right?" He paused a moment to collect the words before asking,"But, um. How are you?" He looked up at America.

America looked at him with a small, hopeless smile and replied slowly with an unusual, small voice,"How the fuck do you think?"

Russia looked at him for a moment before looking at the table and opened his mouth to say something. America cut him off by putting his hands in his lap and sitting up in his seat and saying,"Look, Ivan. I know you're just trying to look out for me or help me or something because why not pityfuck the next suicidal person you see? But I don't want- I can't take your remorse or comfort." He sat back in his chair, tears brimming at his eyes. He continued with a shrug and a broken smile. "Some people care. Nobody cares enough." He shook his head carefully and added,"And neither do I. " He looked at Russia before sitting forward and saying,"And I'm sorry." He pulled his eyes away from the person in front of him, stood up from the table, pushed his chair in, and walked away with his hands in his pockets.

Russia sucked in his breath and closed his eyes as he sat at the table. He let his breath out at looked at the ceiling.

The screen blacked out, and a few nations looked at Russia. He was watching the screen tentatively and biting his lip with fear and tears in his eyes. It hurt just as much as it hurt any other person in that room.

The screen came back up to see America looking in his bathroom mirror, without his glasses, eyes red and watery. He took a deep breath and opened a package of razors, the scars littering his wrist fully exposed. He took one out and looked at it, then he looked at himself in the mirror again as a few tears ran down his cheeks.

The personifications watched in horror. America sat in his tub, his clothes still on, and staring at the ceiling. He looked at his wrist then he took the razor and dragged it down the side, blood pouring out. His breathing sped up as he took the blade in the other hand and did the same with the inside of his other arm.

Hands shaking, he breathed deep and heavy breaths as he sunk down slightly in the water that was now hastily turning red. He rested his head against the wall behind him as his breathing steadily slowed and he closed his eyes.

The screen faded back to life to see America on the chair in his bedroom again, but instead of attempting at death he was untying the rope from the ceiling fan. He stepped off of the chair with the rope in his left hand. He looked at the rope then at the fading scars on his wrist. He sighed and sat in the chair. He leaned back in the chair and breathed.

* * *

 **So, instead of making this chapter a two parter I simply updated the chapter. This chapter was intense.** **I hope you didn't get hit _too_ hard in the feels! I need to know whether or not you guys want me to do a chapter on the World Wars or not, so _please_ tell me your opinion. See you in the next chapter, and don't be afraid to contact me! (Also, I'm excited for 13 Reasons Why season two.)**


	7. The World Wars

Chapter 8 (I think): The World Wars

* * *

The countries squirmed at the next white words that came up against the black screen. "The World Wars: World War One". They wondered what they would witness that they hadn't seen before.

The screen came up to see America at a convention table with other important people in his government. One man said,"Our allies in the war are needing supplies, so why do we not help them?"

"I don't think that I need to remind you that we are trying to stay neutral in this fight. It simply does not concern us!" Another man countered.

"Why don't we send aid in a different way then?" A third man added. "We don't have to fully contribute to the fight because that might result on an attack on our soil, but we could still send support to our allies."

The arguing continued and America simply sat in his chair. He didn't know what to do. He could help his friends, but that might end in him getting attacked. Was that a risk to take?

To the nations' surprise the screen faded black and new letters came up. "The World Wars: World War Two".

"That went quick,"France commented. (Because the writer ran out of ideas for World War One, so we're just gonna go to World War Two. Off off and away. (/._.)/ )

The nations watched America walk down a port. He eventually came up to someone and started talking to them. Seconds later a plane with the Japanese flag painted on the side flew into the military base causing an explosion. America and they other person were knocked backward from the catastrophe. America lay on the ground, unconscious.

Japan resisted the urge to gasp. He realized what this was. He remembered watching the kamikazi pilots take off. It was odd seeing the effect of this tragic cause.

The screen blacked out then the image of the allied forces in a meeting room came up. They were all in bad shape. England had bruises and a wrist cast. China was ruffed up at the edges. Russia was also a bit of a mess, but nothing too tragic. France couldn't even look up at everyone from all of the pain and ruin he felt physically and emotionally.

England was speaking with them. "We need to start taking serious action, gentlemen. China, what do you have for me?"

"'What do you have for me?'! I can't do anything without proper supply chains!"China replied. He added quietly,"Japan keeps getting in the way."

England nodded and said,"Noted. Russia?"

Russia smiled, waved the question off and said,"All is good, da. I plan to make Germany pay dearly for double crossing me."

"Er. Right. Sounds good. France?" England asked.

France simply looked at the table. He opened his mouth to say something, but it took a moment for thoughts to register of what to say. In the end he mumbled,"Well, uh..." He trailed off with his words. He was a mess, just barely holding on.

England gave him a sympathetic look with a hint of worry and said,"You do what you can."

Canada sat quietly, not wanting to be talked to. His country had entered the war as soon as they'd heard what had happened to America's country.

At that moment the door slowly opened and America quietly walked in, silently closing the door behind him. It was odd to see him enter a room like that instead of bursting with words.

The Allies looked up at him with confusion. "America, what are you doing here?" England questioned. "This is a war council. For countries who are currently at war with the Axis Powers."

America put on his fake smile and said,"Good! I'm at the right place then."

"So you're joining us?" China inquired.

"Yup!"

"Wait just a minute,"England started,"I've been asking you to join the war since it started! Why the bloody hell are you joining us now?"

America began to swiftly walk to the head of the table. "A 'thanks' would've been appreciated, bro,"America said. He picked up a map of Europe off the table and started ranting. "Okay, listen up! Right now we're going to focus on victory over the Axis. Currently our largest threat is from Germany, so we'll have to.."

He continued talking while England stood where he had been, clouded with confusion. Then he realized something. America had his hair mostly covering the left side of his face. Then, he noticed blood. Wheather it was dry or not he didn't care. His ears were starting to bleed and he had stains around his jaw.

America stood there talking to them. "Russia, I want you to keep distracting Germany from the Eastern front... France, we'll see what we can do to push Germany back from you... China, me and you will team up to..." It was hard for him to speak. His hands shook and his ears were ringing like mad. He could feel the blood start to drain from his ear canal.

England furrowed his eyebrows and put his hand on America's shoulder and said,"America you're blee-" He heard a click and suddenly America was pointing a gun at him.

"Don't touch me," Was his simple answer as he looked England in the eye. But his eyes were clouded over with fear and pain.

The nations that hadn't been in that meeting room jumped in surprise. What was the reason behind this spontaneous reaction?

England was caught off guard for a moment at seeing America's full face. He had a black eye and a few scrapes. England recovered from the shock and said,"Don't you point that bloody thing at me!"

America's misty expression became clear as he realized what he'd just done off of instinct. He lowered the gun and said. "I'm. I mean. Im sorry. I.."

Past England's thoughts rang out as America continued his speech,"That was the day you realized you could get hurt like the rest of us. That you weren't untouchable anymore. That you had a reason to be afraid." The screen blacked out before one last statement sounded. "It changed you."

The nations, especially the Axis Powers, breathed out a heavy sigh. This part of the 'movie' was going to be especially emotionally draining for them. It was horrific for each of them in different ways without knowing what someone else went through.

The next scene came up to show that America was on a battle ship. He walked out on the deck and looked over the water ahead of him. They were headed for Normandy to end this war with an attack of surprise. America stood peaceful for a moment before pulling his jacket closer and complaining,"Why's it got to be so cold? Why can't it just be nice and warm in the winter like it is in Arizona?"

The countries found humor in this statement but where left wondering, what in the world was an Arizona?

The screen cut to an image of America and Canada, both in military uniforms, prying a door open. Once they got inside America yelled "Thunder!" while starting to walk down the corridor. It was lined with many jail cells for prisoners. They were all empty.

America looked at Canada confused. Canada murmured,"I know this is where they took him."

"Thunder!" They yelled again. This time they got a reply.

"Flash!" Came a small voice. Then they saw an arm start waving from a cell a little ways down. America and Canada immediately started off in full sprint. They stopped at the cell their ally was in.

Once they got the door open they hugged France. "Merci, merci! (Thank you, thank you!) I was starting to think I'd never get out of there!" France said hugging them. Before they could respond they heard two voices from around the corner.

"Nazis," Canada confirmed, worried.

France also became panicy,"What do we do?"

The footsteps and the voices started getting closer.

"Run like hell!" America shouted before dragging France and Canada with him.

The men after them were on their tail, but they got out of there faster than them. Once outside they slammed the door shut on the Nazis. France gained a surprised expression when he saw the battle in front of him.

"I was not informed there was a battle going on!" France exclaimed, surprised.

"Liberation of France,"America said. "Let's go!"

The screen faded out. A few countries looked at France who was beaming at remembering how happy and relieved he had felt that day.

The next thing that came up was unsurprising until the people in the conference room started talking.

The men were all trying to persuade America to agree on something. "He is not surrendering. It's the only way!"

"No!" America retorted. "Even if he is my enemy, I'm not going to drop a nuclear weapon on his country! God knows what things would happen to him!"

The nations realized they were talking about whether to bomb Japan or not.

"Sir, this is our last resort," Another man said. "If we don't do this now it could mean a loss. This is the better option."

America's expression became one of question. "The better option?" He repeated.

The men nodded. "We could do this or resort to a more brutal, relentless force."

America became horrified. He looked at his lap, waiting for something to happen. They took his silence as the 'okay'.

the last words that were uttered from America's mouth were,"I'm sorry."

* * *

 **Yea. So anyway this chapter was sorta crumby because I didn't have a lot of material to right off of. I'll probably update this chapter a little bit in the future, but for right now let's get to the Cold War. Okay, in the next chapter there will be mentions of trickery through flirtatiousness, but it will not be a lot. It's probably just gonna be a bunch of stupid fighting and stuff idk, lol. There will also be some spy stuff. So yea. *cough* James Bond references. Sorry I had something in my throat.**


	8. The Trail Of Tears

Chapter 9? Yea, Chapter 9: The Trail Of Tears

* * *

 **Okey, before you leave a comment confused on where the Cold War chapter is I would like to say that this is a** ** _very_** **important instance in American history that changed life for the native people all together. This was brought to light for me by Iceflight398 (they're pretty cool, go give them a cookie.) The Indian Removal Act actually happened** ** _before_** **the World Wars, so I had to get this in here before it got too late. Don't worry! I will do the Cold War chapter next. Anyway, onto the chapter!**

* * *

The nations' faces went pale as they watched the words "The Trail Of Tears" fade from the screen. What horrible tragedy could have been so grim to deserve that name?

The image that came up seemed normal until sound started emitting, and they heard what was going on in the government meeting room.

A man was giving a speech and saying,"It will be a forced removal in which these people will be moved to an area past the Mississippi River. It will be marked as part of the Indian Removal Act. It will include the people of the Cherokee, Muskogee, Seminole, Chickasaw, and Choctaw tribes. They will be forcibly marched to their new, permanent destination. Now, this may cause trouble to them, but that is not a problem that we will recognize. Any objections to this movement?"

America stood up and said,"Uh, yeah. Yeah there are. You can't just _force_ these people out of their homes."

"I assure you that we can and will,"The man said.

"President Jackson," America pleaded,"These are _people_ we're talking about. Human beings. They have rights just like the rest of the people in this country! It would be _devastating_ for them if we did this."

President Jackson retorted saying,"And like I said. That is a matter we will not recognize."

"You aren't doing this!" America protested. He obviously cared very much about these people they were discussing.

"I am the president of the United States," He said sternly.

"I _am_ the United States!"

A few of the countries watching laughed at this comment that tuned some hilarity. But they were silenced when the President said,"You do **not** have **authority**! You shall be quite and listen!"

With that America stormed out of the conference hall. Once he was a hallway away from the room he had come from he leaned against a wall with his arms rapped around himself and his shoulders tense. He rested against the wall and pursed his lips, trying not to cry.

But he couldn't stop it when his lips started trembling. He lowered his head as tears fell. He sniffled a few times and eventually murmured,"I- I'm sorry. I didn't want to do this. I'm so sorry."

'Who was he saying sorry to?' The personifications thought collectively. 'Was he just referring generally to the unfortunate people about to have to experience this horrific event, or was it to someone in particular?' They had never thought America to have a parental figure besides England. Was this an ancient they had never heard of? The nations looked over at Canada, confused when he gave a small gasp of the word,"oh."

Their awareness was turned back to the screen when the image and sounds of busyness came up. There was a crowd of people with tan skin, dark hair and eye color, and clothes made of resources from animals. There were hundreds, even thousands of them. They were speaking in a tongue that none of the nations knew, and one that America and Canada were encouraged to forget.

America was seen hurrying through the commotion of people until he saw a specific person. He locked eyes with her. She looked the age of someone in her early thirties. She had long black hair that went down to her waist, which was braided down her back. Her eyes were dark brown, like mud after a storm, and her skin was tanner than America's. She wore a deerskin dress and pants and no shoes. She had a few scars up her arm but was otherwise untouched. She had a satchel to her side that carried her few belongings.

Canada gasped making the other countries look at him. His hands were over his mouth and he was wearing a bittersweet expression. He had almost forgotten what she had looked like. Let alone her voice. The nations turned back to the screen as the woman gave America a small smile and spoke.

"I thought I told you and your brother not to come looking for us,"she stated as a weak joke. She had hoped that America wouldn't come looking for them, especially her at this time. It would only bring more pain.

"I couldn't let you leave without saying goodbye," America said. "Like all those years ago."

She dropped her smile and walked toward America and stopped in front of him. "I didn't want you to see me leave. It would ha-"

Just then, a taller man jogged up to them. He was muscularly built and had a younger appearance than the woman's, but his eyes were as old as the Earth. Half of his head was shaved, and his hair was held in a loose ponytail that went down to his elbows. He had paint on his face and wore deerskin pants and moccasins with beads placed particularly and in detail on his clothes.

"Choctaw-" He started in a deep, slightly gravely but friendly voice. His face fell when he saw America. He opened then closed his mouth. Not able to find words, he pursed his lips and let his head fall as he became seemingly more interesting in the dirt underneath his feet.

Choctaw turned back to America and opened her mouth to say something, but she was cutoff by America embracing her and saying,"I don't want to loose you again! Please, please don't go."

She closed her eyes and pursed her lips as a tear fell, like America did when he tried to stop himself from crying. "I'm sorry. But all ancients must leave eventually. I have to be with my people, and you have to be with yours." She pulled away and looked at America who had shed a tear. She wiped the tear away and went on with a soothing voice.

"Don't cry for me and my people's loss," she continued. "Think of it as a new opportunity for you and your people."

America hung his head as he cried silently. He said in a weepy voice,"I'll miss you."

She gave him a smile to show she was strong enough to pull through. America had taken after her like that. She kissed the top of his head and said,"I will too." When America looked back at her sadly she concluded with,"Stiyu (Be strong)."

She walked over to the man, Muskogee, who had been standing there silently, and whispered something to him. He nodded his head, and Choctaw walked away, into the crowd of her people who were walking into their fate of removal.

America stood there for a moment until the man came up to him. It was climaxingly silent for a moment until he spoke up. "I, um. I know that the last time we parted was likely the worst way to do so. So, to make up for that, I need you to know that I am sorry. And I always will be. And... the other tribes and I, we love you." He paused again, just breathing for a moment. America was shaking from the sobs he was holding in, his face crumpled up in tears like an old rag.

"You and Canada meant so much to us,"Muskogee finished. "Even though you were never ours to keep." He took a deep breath and looked at America, his heart breaking from the pain of the situation. He took a few steps forward, and hugged him. America took a second to breath in before he hugged him back, one last time.

Muskogee rubbed his thumb against the back of his neck then kissed the top of his head before pulling away. He looked at him once more before averting his eyes, squeezing America's shoulders slightly, then walking away, the screen fading to black.

Canada had tears in his eyes. He hadn't seen or heard the Native American tribes in decades. He and America missed them so much.

The Roman voice spoke through the dark screen. "The Trail Of Tears was a series of forced removals of Native Americans to places past the Mississippi River. These people, along with African freedmen and slaves, were removed from their traditional lands to places out west. About 2,000-6,000 of the 16,543 people perished along the journey."

The woman-voice smiled and contributed,"There is no word in the Cherokee language for goodbye, for it is seen as too final. Instead we say "stiyu" or "be strong"."

She added before finishing,"Stiyu, Canada. I miss you."

The nations were surprised by the last comment and looked over at Canada. He was smiling the most he had in a while, and he knew if America were here he would be smiling just the same.

* * *

 **Aww, happy feels. Anyway, like I said at the start, the chapter for the Cold War will be next, so keep your eyes out for that. Also, I'm a little bit sick at the moment, so I may not be able to update that fast since it makes me tired easily. Nonetheless, I will try my hardest to get the next chapter out sometime soon! Please tell me if you have any comments, reviews, suggestions, or questions. I love to hear from you guys! See you in the next chapter!**


	9. Project MKUltra

Chapter 9: Project MKUltra

* * *

The words "Project MKUltra" came up on the screen for a moment, and the scene started.

It was a nice, crisp day outside, and it was just starting to get dark out. It had been only a few days since the world meeting had ended and America was back in his country. He exhaled a happy sigh and stretched his arms, extending them to the sky as he walked down the street of one of his many cities. He rested his arms above his head, elbows bent and palms pressed against the back of his head comfortably. The road on his left was mostly clear, and so was the sidewalk he strolled down.

He let his arms drop to his side and kept calm as a car rushed past him on the road. Suspicion only arose when he heard a car coming up behind him, slowly. He continued to walk, his hands in his pockets. He turned his head towards the sound when he heard the car stop just behind him, and a car door slam shut. He looked forward and sped up his walking. He thought something like this might happen, what with the missing reports and outlandish court cases. There was an alleyway between two buildings ahead that he could run through to the next street over to get away if he needed to. But they wouldn't do this to him, would they?

By this time, the nations watching were thoroughly confused at the situation and what was happening. Yet, one could never be too trusting, especially not during these times of Communist scares and hidden reds. The viewers then dreadfully realized that they were witnessing something from the 1950s, how stupid everyone had been.

America turned into the alleyway and looked behind him. Big mistake. Two men, who looked like federal agents from one of America's action movies, were behind him. America bolted down the alleyway, but didn't make it to the end as one of the men grabbed him from behind. America yelped and struggled in the man's arms. He elbowed the man in the side, stepped backwards on his toes, elbowed him in the nose, and kneed him in the groin.

He began to run again, but was once more stopped by the second man who pressed something to America's mouth and nose this time. America struggled with less force this time, only trying to pry the man's hand from his face and stepped backwards as the man did so. America slowly became limp, and let his eyelids flutter shut.

The nations watching this scene of events were caught off guard by the sudden panic and lack of resistance they thought America would have to prevent this. Of course, he had tried to get away and had put up a decent fight, but it seemed like something else was effecting him to cause him not to get away.

* * *

The screen brightened to show America handcuffed to a built in chair inside of the back of a van. He opened his eyes slowly, the grogginess from the drugs overtaking him.

"Ugh, what?... What the?" He let his words and confusion trail off, and he passed out again from exhaustion, confusion, and fatigue from the situation and from not getting enough sleep during the week of the world meeting before.

* * *

White. That was the first thing, and only thing, he saw. He squinted his eyes as his vision adjusted to the bright light and white walls. It was blurry, and he couldn't understand why until he realized he didn't have his glasses. But his surroundings were blurrier than they normally would be without his glasses. That was when he realized he had tears in his eyes. He blinked them back.

Then a question, well, many questions, came to mind. Why were there tears? Where was he? What had happened? He closed his eyes and thought.

He had been in a car. Why was he in a car? Oh yeah.

He was weak. Why was he weak if they had only used chloroform?

No. No no no. This hadn't happened. This couldn't be happening. He remembered seeing the missing reports about students and certain suspicious officials. What was it they had used again? Who was this "they" he kept thinking of?

His coffee. There had been LSD in his coffee he had gotten barely thirty minutes before he had been abducted.

Damnit, he knew he shouldn't have taken it. He knew it was sketchy. Why couldn't he listen to his gut more often?

So why were there tears again? Wait, first, where was he? He opened his eyes and blinked a few times, raising his head as he did so. He looked around. He couldn't see much without his glasses.

Then he looked down. He was in a chair. It was like one of those scary electric chairs that looked like a dentist chair from a horror movie. The part that made it the most terrifying was that his hands and feet were clamped to the seat with restraints that no person could get out of.

Despite this he still yelped and jumped in surprise and struggled to break free. No luck. He calmed his breathing and heartbeat to prevent another panic attack. Another panic attack?

Then it clicked. He remembered what had happened once they had driven the car into what looked like an enormous storage unit, and pulled him out of the car.

He had been too drugged and exhausted to struggle too much. In fact they had basically had to carry him.

They had brought him here, to this room. They had strapped him in, and he had blacked out again. They had shaken him and woken him up. The room was spinning, the walls seemed to breath, and people looked like they left trails of themselves like in time lapses or something. They needed to keep him awake for testing. That's why he had been so close to crying. He was scared. So scared.

It was overwhelming how this had all happened so fast. How he didn't even stop it. He felt hopeless. That angry kind of hopeless where you don't know what's happening, and you just want it to stop.

Then someone walked into the room. A man in white. One of the many men in white that were stationed in this place. He walked over to America.

"What's. Happening?" America asked slowly, his voice clearly displaying his emotions.

The man said nothing and instead pressed America's head to the seat and strapped it to the head rest, America struggling the whole time. He grunted and turned his head and even tried to bite the man, but nothing could get him out of this situation.

The personifications couldn't believe this was happening. It was so unreal, like something from a movie. They couldn't believe this had actually happened to their friend.

After strapping America's head to the seat the man left, and another man walked in. He was carrying a tray with tools on it.

"Whu- What.. is that?"

The man said nothing and simply put the tray down on the small table that was next to the chair America was in. He picked up an alcohol wipe and wiped the side of America's neck. America squirmed at the touch, but couldn't do anything to fight it.

Then the man picked up one of the syringes that was filled with a clear substance and had a large needle on it. America's eyes widened in terror. He had always hated needles, so the fact of the situation he was in **plus** needles was not a good combination.

America screamed and yelled as the man put the needle in the side of his neck and injected more LSD. "Owowowowowewww," he complained. He didn't understand. Why were they doing this to him?

The screen paused for a moment then glitched horribly. Japan, being closest to one of the speakers jumped, a few other countries yelped in surprise as well. Germany began to get up to check the caset tape when the glitching and fuming stopped. The screen was dark for a few moments before slowly easing back to life.

* * *

America was now sitting at a table, a man sat across from him with a clipboard. "No!" America yelled. "I've already told you everything! I'm not a spy. I'm not going to work against my own government. I'm not planning something. And I'm not some retarded communist!"

He shook his head and looked down at his lap. "I don't want to be experimented on like a guinea pig and patronized like bunny rabbits anymore." He trailed off for a moment, his words hanging in the air, before continuing. "I just want to go home. I just want to feel safe. I want to see my brother again. I want to talk to my friends again... I don't want to be alone like this anymore."

The screen darkened, and the nations wondered for a moment if that was the end of it, until the screen cut to the last scene.

America sat alone in his room, on his bed, all balled up and closed off from the world. His glasses lay at his side. He lifted his head and sniffled. He had been crying.

He sighed and stated,"I hate my government, but still I don't at the same time." He lightly shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair, stopping at the top of his head. "God, why'd my country turn out so horrible?"

With that last, confusing statement the screen went dark. The countries watching were baffled. America always took the greatest pride in his country and government, so why would he be saying otherwise? He had almost always acted as if his country were the best without any exceptions. Could that just be another lie that America had made?

The Germanic voice began speaking. "Project MKUltra, otherwise called the CIA's Mind Control Program, was a program of experiments on human subjects, at times illegal, made and put into action by the United States Central Intelligence Agency. Experiments on humans were intended to identify and develop drugs and methods to be used in interrogations and torture to weaken the person and force confessions through mind control."

"It began in the early 1950s, was made official in 1953, it reduced in 1964, faltered even more in 1967, and stopped in 1973. Project MKUltra used many ways to manipulate people's mental states and brain functions including the use of drugs (especially LSD), and other chemicals, hypnosis, sensory deprivation, isolation, verbal and sexual abuse, as well as other forms of psychological torture," added the Roman voice.

The personifications listening sat there, stunned. America, their friend and ally, had been _tortured_ , and none of them had been told.

"Why?" was the question that circled their minds,"Why hadn't America talked to them?"

* * *

 **Okay so there's obviously a _lot_ to say. I have been gone for ****_way_** **too long, and I** ** _finally_** **got another chapter in. A bunch of stuff happened to me to get me busy, but I did make a few one-shots just to keep up with my account while I worked on this. Also, I deleted the Cold War chapter because I'm going to redo it because what I had on it really wasn't my best. Also, I am working on another fanfic on this website titled,"Cover Blown," so watch out for those being updated as well. Lastly, I'm going to slightly change my writing style, so the chapters will, hopefully, be more detailed and expressive.**

 **Okay, also, with each chapter I post for any of my stories I get so much support and feedback and it just blows me away so thank you** ** _so much_** **. Literally I can't thank you guys enough. Thank you guys _so much_ for your support in making this fic, and reading it! It really helps and brightens my day. :)**


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